


Merlin Omovember

by HoldItMerthur



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Bladder Bulge, Bladder Control, Desperation, Desperation Play, King Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), M/M, Merthur - Freeform, Omorashi, Pee, Prince Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Wetting, holding contest, pee holding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-15 13:37:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21254246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HoldItMerthur/pseuds/HoldItMerthur
Summary: Arthur confesses to Merlin, and the two of them have fun exploring his pee-holding kink. A series of misadventures follow.! Contains Omorashi, the act of feeling aroused by having a full bladder. Do not read if you are uncomfortable with pee fetishes. !





	1. Arthur's Confession

_Prologue_

“Come here.”

“Just a second, Arthur.”

“_Merlin,_ come here.”

“Just give me a second, will you?” Merlin’s knees bent towards each other, and it took all of his willpower not to cross them and jiggle as he bent over the table. “I really have to pee.” The edge caught him right in his tender stomach, and he gasped.

“Do you forget who you’re talking to?”

“No, sire—”

“Peeing can wait,” Arthur said suddenly.

The wiggling stopped briefly as Merlin glanced up from the table from which he’d been clearing the breakfast dishes, a sly grin lighting up his elvish face. “You’re… you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” It was more teasing than an accusation, but still Arthur was lost for words. Merlin’s smile faded, and he grew extra quiet as he mentally scolded himself for being so bold. “I’m sorry, sire. It was just a joke—but a-a very, very unfunny one. I didn’t mean to offend…”

“Yes,” Arthur said, interrupting him, after but a moment’s consideration. “I suppose I am.”

The room fell silent. The prince wasn’t thinking about the strain his confession could have on his relationship with his servant. He thought only of rightfully speaking his mind when it counted. Merlin deserved at least that: honesty, before they proceeded.

When precious moments passed, and Merlin still had nothing to say, Arthur stood up from his desk and waltzed over to him, an unfamiliar light sparkling in his piercing blue eyes—the fire of lust. “I don’t want you to pee. I enjoy watching you hold it. Is that… so strange?”

“Why, n-no. Not at all. I think… I think if I were in your place, I’d enjoy watching you hold it as well,” Merlin said, looking away to hide his face. This prompted a smile from Arthur.

“Is that so?”

Merlin nodded, still looking down to hide the blush spreading across his pale cheeks.

“So let’s have a little fun, then,” the prince said in a commanding tone, as he grabbed his servant by the wrist, cupping the sleeve of his sweater, and nudged him towards the stone wall. “But you see, Merlin…” Arthur breathed as he pressed his shaking servant against the wall, “No one can know about this. About us. It will be our little secret.”

Merlin’s face scrunched up as his bladder was jostled by Arthur’s quick movements, but otherwise he endured. “Yes, of course I understand. But if you handle me like that again, I might leak,” the sorcerer added with a groan.

Arthur had hold of both his wrists now and leaned forward to whisper in Merlin’s ear, “That’s just what I wanted to hear. And keeping secrets,” he said softly, lifting the hem of Merlin’s shirt and tracing a circle on the skin of his tender abdomen, “is what you do best.”

Arthur watched Merlin’s face intently as he poked and prodded around the boy’s nether regions, saving the bulge of his swollen bladder for dessert.

Merlin bit his lip to hold back a moan. It felt so good and hurt so bad. He’d never held for pleasure before… but if this was a taste of what was to come, he’d hold for Arthur til a golden shower was running down his legs, soaking through both their smallclothes. “Oh, gods, I have to pee so bad!”

“But you’ll hold it, for me?” Arthur had a pleading look in his catlike eyes.

Somehow, Merlin managed one of his famous half-smiles, panting from the stimulation, his forehead damp with sweat from the sheer effort it took to keep the floodgates under lock and key. He closed his eyes and bowed his head, all as part of the game they were playing. “As you command, sire.”

All the kindness left Arthur’s eyes as he found the most tender spot and pressed into it with the heel of his palm. Merlin cried out in pain and temporarily lost the strength in his legs as he spurted and fought to keep control. But Arthur knew what he was doing. His precise pokes and jabs were forcing the piss out of his servant in small spurts, and there was nothing Merlin could do to hold it back a second longer.

Arthur held him as he slid down the wall, slowly pissing himself, soaking through every layer of his clothes. Then the prince’s eyes softened, and he planted a soft kiss on Merlin’s forehead. “You did well for your first time.”

Merlin’s eyes fluttered open, and he slowly exhaled with a hint of a smile on his lips. All he could manage was a smile, for no words could describe the climax of pure bliss.

_Preface_

Arthur crouched by the lake as his horse begun to drink, sweeping his gaze over the still water, like molten glass hardening over time, not a ripple to disturb its clear, smooth surface. He took notice of the pressure growing in his bladder and how the liquid sloshed around when he tried to stand. He was about to lift up his chainmail and undo his breeches to relieve himself when he thought better of it and turned to his servant, instead, whose attention was lost to the silent whispers of the lake.

“Merlin?” Arthur repeated, having received no answer the first time. He was trying to herd his servant’s thoughts away from the lake and over to his face. Merlin seemed to snap out of his self-induced trance with a little prodding and befittingly bestowed his attention upon the man who would soon be king.

“Yes, sire?”

“You can drop the formalities, Merlin,” Arthur said with a stifled laugh. “We’re out in the middle of nowhere, and I’m about to take a piss, of all things.”

A flash of interest passed over Merlin’s delicate features, but he looked away to hide it. “Ah. Hurry up and go, then.” The sooner it was over, the less aroused he would feel.

“Not yet,” Arthur said, wiggling his hips a little and rubbing his thighs together. “I’m trying to enjoy the feeling.”

Merlin nodded and switched his attention back to the lake, though he was unsuccessful in hiding the splash of red coloring his face. 

Arthur knew he was being ignored, but he also knew Merlin was too shy to show he was aroused, so there was nothing to help him take his mind off his impending need. He grunted and fought with his heavy chainmail shirt, lifting it up so he could reach for his breeches with his free hand. “Do you ever hold it for fun?” he asked as he struggled with getting his pants undone. “Or do you hold it only when you’re prevented from going by a cruel twist of fate?”

“This is something entirely new to me,” Merlin admitted. “I’ve only quite recently discovered the reward that comes from denying my need. But I would say that… I’d like to hold it for pleasure in the near future. But only if I had someone there to encourage me.”

Arthur gave a small nod, understanding what he was hinting at, and gave up on parting his armor to pat his servant affectionately on the back. “Hey, Merlin?”

“Yes, Arthur?”

“How about some help?”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “With what?” He relaxed when Arthur gestured to his shaking knees and how he was struggling to get his pants down in time. Merlin was by his side in seconds and held up the chainmail as Arthur undid his breeches and wiggled his hips as he spurted into the bushes, golden dew drops glistening on the leaves as he relaxed into the feeling.

It was almost as heavenly to release as it was to hold it in. …but not quite.

Arthur tucked himself back in and smirked. “Well, then. Let the games begin.”


	2. Peewitched (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is cursed by a fairy to hold his pee for 24 hours.

The forest was still and cold. Arthur had demounted his horse and was leading it by the reins through the thick brush. Though a chilly breeze bit at his thin frock underneath his armor, it rustled not a leaf on one of the inanimate branches.

Arthur was aware of his need to pee, but fear stopped him from taking the time to relieve himself. He didn’t want to make himself vulnerable even for a second; he didn’t trust this part of the forest.

The prince shuddered and hoped he was going the right way. There was no point in checking the map for the fortieth time. He hadn’t changed course, and this rough path underfoot was supposed to lead him out of the thicket and to safer ground.

He’d passed a wild boar or two on the way. One of them had charged him, while the other minded its own business and continued grazing. But it wasn’t the animals Arthur was afraid of.

What he was running from was exactly the reason why he had demounted his horse and made himself as small as possible amongst the tall oaks and pines, walking on the tips of his toes on the floor of twigs and dead leaves.

Winter was almost upon them.

Arthur knew he couldn’t keep up this quick a pace forever. He muttered a curse under his breath and stopped to give himself a quick squeeze, but there was nowhere to grab with the chainmail wrapping so tightly around his lower body.

Even then, it wasn’t enough. His bladder was throbbing gently to make itself known, begging the prince for release. It was too much to ignore. He couldn’t go on like this, ignoring his need, even when he was in grave danger. He had to pee _now._

Arthur was about to give in and slip out of his armor for that sweet taste of relief when he suddenly felt he wasn’t alone anymore. With a groan, he tucked himself back in, ignoring the few drops that splattered the grass, having forced their way past his wall of slipping resolve.

“What is it that you want?” he asked in frustration, whipping around to face his attacker. Funnily enough, he didn’t draw his sword. He knew it would prove to be ineffective against a creature of such powerful magic such as this one. He was utterly defenseless. And full to the brim… and the creature was aware of both these things.

A fairy stepped into the dim light, a pattern of dead leaves covering one half of its face and body. Pretty and delicate it was not. “You have taken something of grave importance from my family. And for that, you will not escape me, Arthur Pendragon. I hereby curse you, on the very ground you stand upon, future king of Camelot. Shall you return what belongs to me… the curse will still run its course. For it is what’s deserved.”

Arthur stumbled back a step as a burst of morbid mauve struck him in the chest. When it was over, he swept his weary gaze over his body but found not a thing out of place… and that’s when he worried the spell may be internal. Perhaps he would die from some deadly disease or pass it on to his people. But just as he found his authority and spoke up in a gruff tone, “What did you do to me?”, the fairy faded from his view with a sadistic grin plastered on its chin and a wicked gleam in its pupils for eyes.

It left behind a very cold wind and a tired Arthur to drag himself home, his mind plagued with horror at everything this curse could mean for him, his family, and even worse—the people of Camelot.

Arthur swore to himself he’d take one thing at a time. It was no use considering everything that could and will go wrong when his concentration was split on a very pressing need: his bursting bladder. If he even tried getting back up on his horse, he knew he’d piss himself. 

The prince set his armor and sword aside in the grass, spread his legs wide, and jiggled his hips as he closed his eyes and let his body know it was okay to release.

Seconds passed. Then minutes. And not a drop left his quivering tip. At first, Arthur’s body tensed in fear. Then he bit his lip and let go of his strained shaft, his knuckles pale white from squeezing so hard. Just like the fairy’s dark magic, realization struck him, and his breath caught in his lungs.

This was the curse. The fairy saw how bad he needed to go and preyed on his vulnerability. The cruel beast wanted the future king to make a fool of himself in front of his people. But he wouldn’t. Arthur would hold it with dignity until he was fit to burst.

“Twenty-four hours,” a disembodied voice exhaled in his ear. “Hold it til you burst.”

Arthur crossed his shaking legs and bit back a moan at the thought of holding it a second longer than he had to. But bargaining with a creature of magic was simply not an option. His father would never forgive him. And returning the jewel he’d sought out and stolen for his people would be letting down everyone he cared about. There was no pain he wouldn’t bear if it meant his people would live a good life.

So, his fate was sealed… and so was his bursting bladder.

This was going to be one long 24 hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 1: A curse or magic made them hold it or have to go really bad 
> 
> How will he hold it until the curse is over? Stay tuned for part two!


	3. Peewitched (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur fights a losing battle against his bladder and the curse that won't let him relieve himself as he so desperately craves.

Arthur walked part of the way home to pass the time and rode the rest when he felt he couldn’t walk anymore. The rhythm of his horse’s hooves bounced him up and down, and with his legs spread wide, his bladder was constantly jolted, making Arthur moan each time the urine pushed its way down to his tip but couldn’t escape.

The prince tried time after time to take his mind off his predicament and focus on what was expected of him when he arrived home, but his distressed bladder never failed in making itself known, to the point where Arthur was all too aware how it was forced to distend to keep in all that extra liquid that would have come spilling out by now, no matter how strong his will.

“Someone once said that ‘life’s greatest lessons are learned through pain,’” Arthur mumbled to himself. “And now I know for sure that that man was an idiot.”

At the top of the hill, overlooking the castle gates, Arthur drew in a deep breath, put on his best poker face, and hid all of his tells. Then he rode on, holding the satchel high, faking a victorious smile. If anything, it was a shallow victory. A win for his people, at the expense of Arthur’s well-being.

“Arthur!” Uther called out his name endearingly, but that smile would soon disappear, and affection would turn to anger if Arthur didn’t tell him exactly what he wanted to hear. Their relationship was a strained one, but all Arthur could focus on was the strain his overfull bladder put on his body as it pulsed incessantly beneath the armor that was too tight for comfort. “Tell me about your journey.”

“It took longer to get back than I anticipated,” Arthur admitted. “But I brought back what was promised: an ancient relic from the days when magic still plagued our kingdom.” He was glad Merlin wasn’t around to hear him say that. He wouldn’t want to make his boyfriend uneasy, like he’d suddenly turned on him, changed his mind about him. Arthur was too loyal for that. He had no quall with the man who had risked his life to protect his own more times than he could count.

Arthur handed his father the satchel, and Uther unsheathed a crystal with no distinct color. It changed colors depending on the level of light in the room. Considering it was early evening, and the sun was beginning to dip in the sky, it took on an orange hue.

Uther’s face shone brighter with pride than the radiant crystal he turned over in his hands. Arthur expected anything but for the man to come forward and draw him into a loving hug. Part of him felt warm inside, but a bigger part of him wished his father had kept his distance. His bladder was crushed against Uther’s dead weight, and he grunted, trying to keep himself under manners even when his bladder screamed out in agony.

When Uther released him, Arthur rested a hand on his stomach and gave himself a quick rub to appease the aches and pains. His lower half felt so heavy under such a burden; he was so waterlogged, it was unbearable. No man should have to carry an ocean inside him. Yet, here he was.

“We’ll have a feast in your honor,” Uther promised. “Tell the cooks—”

“Actually, father,” Arthur quickly interrupted, “I’m exhausted from the long journey. I would appreciate if the feast could be moved to another night. But I understand if the cooks have already semi-prepared for the occasion. I wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.” Arthur held his breath as he awaited his father’s answer. He begged the heavens for the king to grant his wish, for the thought of consuming all that celebratory wine made him mentally wet himself.

Uther’s eyes softened. “Of course. I seem to be getting ahead of myself without asking you what you wanted. The feast will commence tomorrow night for a job well done. Rest up, my son. You did well.”

Arthur managed a faint smile and walked himself to his quarters, the one brain cell he had left that wasn’t fixated on the growing bulge between his thighs wondering just what power he had bestowed upon his father by giving him the crystal, something the fairy race had been protecting for centuries.

It was too late now to worry anyway. Arthur just hoped by the time this was all over, he’d even be able to move. A grimace contorted his handsome features when he thought of how sore he was going to be in the morning. And then there was the fact he’d have to try to find a comfortable enough position to rest… which was surely impossible.

The prince passed his servant in the hallway and barely acknowledged him, locking himself away in his room so he could rip off his armor and openly hold himself. Arthur almost screamed in relief from the pleasure he got from giving his bladder more room to expand. It would have taken Merlin too long to undress him, and even then, he was too ashamed to open up to him about what had happened, how stupid he was thinking he could escape a being of magic that knew the forest better than he ever would.

Arthur didn’t bother slipping on any clothes. First, he was focused on pleasuring himself and giving himself the relief he desperately craved. So, he paced the room and danced around shamelessly, pressing himself into the bed frame every now and then to add a little pressure to help him hold it all. Not that he had a choice. 

“Arthur?”

The prince tensed up, praying that whoever was behind that door didn’t have a key and wouldn’t barge right in. He wouldn’t have time to get dressed or even throw on some pants. It hurt too much to move at more than a snail’s pace. “Who is it?”

“It’s Merlin.” A pause. “I didn’t think my voice was one you could forget so easily.” Arthur could almost imagine the smirk behind the door, and in a better mood, he would have laughed and retorted. But not tonight.

“Oh. I’m… I’m a little preoccupied, that’s all. What do you want?”

Merlin leaned against the doorframe, since Arthur didn’t seem in any hurry to open it. “I’ve brought your dinner. Same time as every night. So… you gonna open the door or…?”

Arthur slowly slipped on some loose, yet presentable, clothing and unlatched the door, swinging it open in one swift motion, almost sending Merlin toppling forwards with the tray in his hands. By some miracle, he caught himself and straightened up with a sheepish smile. Arthur barely acknowledged his mistake and gradually made his way to the table, hesitant to sit down and cram his bladder in his lap.

Merlin sensed something was up. Arthur was significantly less chatty tonight than on a normal night, but he also had no idea just what the prince had faced over his two-day journey into the forest. Whatever it was, he didn’t seem too keen to talk about it.

He quickly and efficiently set the table, finishing by placing a hot bowl of soup and a glass of wine in front of the prince. When Arthur didn’t move to pick up his spoon, Merlin frowned. “Is something wrong, sire?”

Arthur shrugged, crossing his legs at the ankles under the table and hoping it wasn’t too noticeable just how uncomfortable he was. “No, I guess I’m just not that hungry.”

“You have to eat something,” Merlin insisted. “Surely you didn’t eat much while you were out… crusading or whatever it is you knights do. ”

“Crusading?” Arthur snorted, and then wallowed in how much of a mistake that had been. Surely, if he had been able, he would have leaked into his trousers. “Is that what you think I was doing? If crusading means ridding the forest of magic, then I suppose you’re right.”

Merlin’s smile faded, and he looked a little unsettled at the prince’s words. “What do you mean?”

“It’s political stuff, really. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“Try me.”

“I stole an ancient heirloom from a race of magical creatures. Is that enough to satisfy the prying child inside of you?”

The young sorcerer ignored his retort. “And just what did you hope to achieve by… by angering an ancient race of magical beings?”

“Certainly not this,” Arthur grumbled. 

“What?”

“You should ask my father. This all started with him, and I simply do as I’m told.” Arthur was growing restless in such a rigid position as the chair offered him. He knocked his knees together under the table and fanned his legs in and out when he thought he could get away with it. “All I know is he wants to display it as a symbol to all the kingdoms that sorcery is a dying art, and all known artifacts will be apprehended and destroyed. Happy now, Merlin? Enough talking. Leave me to eat.”

“Your soup’s cold.” Merlin walked around the table to get it. “I’ll have it warmed up for you—”

“Don’t bother,” Arthur said, getting up from the table as quickly as his crammed-with-urine storage tank would allow. “I’m not hungry, anyway.”

At the flip of a switch, Merlin became the mother Arthur never had. “You need to eat something, surely.”

It’d been hours since the prince had been put under the curse, and he was full back then. Now he was holding an ungodly amount of liquid in his tired, overextended bladder. And the fact Arthur had this much patience left under so much pressure was a miracle in itself. “That’s for me to worry about, Merlin. You can leave me to rest now. I told you I am fine.” 

Merlin was only pushing the matter because he cared. He was worried the prince had grown ill, and Arthur’s excuse of not eating because he was tired was anything but convincing. “You should at least drink. It’s important to stay hydrated. I’ll fetch you some water.”

“Not now, Merlin!” Arthur snapped. He hated how oblivious his servant was to his plight, but he also couldn’t seem to let his guard down long enough to admit he was in trouble. That he seriously needed help. “That will be all. _Goodnight._” 

“Okay. Night, Your Highness,” Merlin murmured as he shut and locked the door. He begrudgingly left Arthur alone, assuming he was just in one of his moods. But something still didn’t feel right…

Alone once more, Arthur exhaled the breath he’d been holding and grasped his throbbing member in both his hands until his entire body was shaking with need. If he didn’t get relief soon, he felt like he was on the verge of going insane.

Still, he held on with all his might, undressed himself, and turned in for the night, sleeping naked under his white satin sheets, not wanting to add any unneeded pressure to his oversensitive bladder. 

Arthur bit his lip and stared up at the ceiling, moaning at how round and full he felt lying down. He didn’t know it was possible for a human to contain this much liquid, but perhaps that was all part of the curse.

A curse that wouldn’t be lifted until the following afternoon.

He’d never make it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Peewitched.


	4. Peewitched (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is in too much pain to last the night and calls on Merlin to help him break the curse so he can finally pee...

Arthur tossed and turned without a wink of sleep. He couldn’t seem to drift off with the weight of his bladder sitting in his lower abdomen and its incessant pulses and throbs. Urine pounded and pounded against the walls of his aching appendage til he gripped it and rolled around under his sheets, panting from the effort it was taking to make it through the night, much less an entire afternoon to come.

Finally, the prince couldn’t take it any longer; he was desperate for some form of relief—_any form!_

“MERLIN!” Arthur cried out in distress. He hated how weak and pitiful he sounded, but he didn’t have much choice. He’d weighed his options in his mind, and this seemed the most plausible one. Perhaps telling his servant his secret would take some weight off his shoulders… and preferably his bladder. Pain had won out over pride in the end.

Merlin was at the prince’s side in seconds, as if he’d been standing by, waiting for the call. “What is it? What’s wrong?” He raked his eyes over Arthur’s flushed face and fidgeting form, drenched with sweat. It wasn’t near warm enough for him to be perspiring so violently. It was growing colder all the time.

Each breath was labored and shallow, for too deep a breath would invoke wave after wave of painstaking desperation. Without saying a word, Arthur raised the loose hem of his nightgown with shaking hands and revealed his swollen lump of a bladder, two-to-three sizes larger than a bladder should ever extend. It sat there like a plump grapefruit, pulsating in, then out, causing Arthur great discomfort.

“Arthur, you’re going to hurt yourself!” Merlin exclaimed, throwing all formality to the wind as he jumped to the conclusion that his superior was holding for the fun of it. “You’ve gone too far this time, don’t you see? You need to let that out right now!”

If he wasn’t in so much agony, Arthur surely would have laughed, even ridiculed his servant for his wild accusations. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? I can’t go, Merlin. I just… can’t.”

Merlin grew quiet and considered his words but drew no answers from them. “What are you saying, sire?”

“I’ve been trying to pee for hours. I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken a leak, and it’s driving me up a wall. What… what is so hard to understand?”

“You talk a lot of what’s but not of why’s.”

“Merlin… I’m in too much pain for your games.”

“I’m not the one playing games here, sire. Now if you want me to help you—which I assume you do because you called me here—tell me what happened. Before I come to my own conclusions and feed you some wild guess that you angered the fairies and this is somehow all their doing.”

“I’ve already told you the story,” Arthur griped. “It’s—wait. Well… well, yes,” he confessed in bewilderment. “That’s exactly what… Merlin, how?”

Merlin smirked, looking happy with himself. “Why do you look so surprised?”

“I don’t know. I just didn’t expect an idiot like you to catch on so quickly.” The young sorcerer tsked, while Arthur regretted telling his joke, for his laughter caught in his throat, and he gasped at how much it increased his already urgent need.

“Are you… enjoying it at all?” There it was. That look in his eyes that Arthur couldn’t seem to ignore. The one that made him want to push Merlin against a wall and kiss him as he squirmed, pain fused with pleasure, but not tonight. Any night but tonight.

“No. There comes a point when it’s too painful to enjoy. And I passed that point six hours ago,” he groaned.

“Would… fooling around help you hold it?”

Arthur shook his head. “I don’t think it could bring me anything but agony. I am past full, Merlin.”

“I can see that.”

“I’m holding a small lake inside of me. I’m afraid my bladder can’t take much more of this,” he moaned, imagining how long it was going to take him to empty his storage tank and how many chamber pots he’d need.

Merlin gave a small nod and headed for the door, not willing to let his arousal distract him from the issue at hand.

“Where are you going?” Arthur grunted after him.

“To find a way to break the curse before you can’t even stand under the weight of your own urine.”

Arthur shuddered at the word. “It hurts, Merlin,” he murmured. _“Please _hurry.”

Merlin didn’t need any encouragement. He rushed back to his chambers like his life depended on it. But it didn’t. There was an even more precious life at stake here: Arthur’s.

With all the ruckus, he was sure to wake Gaius up, but the physician had never gone to bed. He was up late studying ancient remedies and trying his best to keep up with the practice of modern medicine, as mundane as some of the practices were. “Merlin, what in God’s name are you doing?”

“Just a little late-night reading.” Of course, he didn’t expect Gaius to buy this, but they also had an understanding of sorts that Merlin was old enough to take care of himself, and he’d tell Gaius if something were truly wrong. Merlin was the worst liar in the world, and for a man carrying such a burdensome secret on his shoulders, it was a wonder he managed to survive at all without Arthur to look after him.

Merlin gathered a small pile of books and tossed them into a leather satchel so he could take them to Arthur’s and “monitor him” as he worked.

Gaius asked no further questions; the boy had a mind of his own, as he’d demonstrated countless times. He knew he’d get no coherent answers. At least not tonight.

Merlin hurried down the hall and past the guards, knocking three times to let Arthur know he’d returned, so he didn’t startle him. Once he’d set his books down on the table by the window, he sat down to read by candlelight to the backdrop of quiet moans and rustling sheets.

Arthur was such a trooper. He could hold gallons, when Merlin could hold merely pints. The capacity of the prince’s bladder was truly extraordinary, and Merlin hoped that one day he’d have the privilege to explore it to its full extent.

“Arthur… that crystal you brought back is not just a family heirloom. It’s the source of all their power. By taking it, you may have sent Camelot to war with the Fae.”

“What could I do?” Arthur’s voice was breathy and strained. “It was my father’s wish.”

“True. But if they let you take it out of the forest, surely they’ll be coming back for it?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Anyway, now isn’t the time to be discussing such heavy matters. You can barely focus.”

Arthur smiled, but it was a hollow one, the severity of his pain shining through his dark eyes. “Ah… now you’re finally showing some common sense. Good.”

Merlin read and read and read until he felt like his eyes would bleed. It was all so frustrating how every answer to his questions seemed to take him right back to the beginning of his research. “This language is so hard to read and understand the deeper you delve into the ancient scripts. I can barely make any sense of it!” he exclaimed.

Arthur groaned and hugged his swollen tummy, protecting it from unseen attackers. “Merlin… please,” he begged. “If there’s ever been a time for you to use your magic, now would be the time.”

Merlin’s eyes widened. “The primal part of me wanted to throw the crystal down and shatter it and hope that breaks the curse. But in fact… that would seal your fate forever. Perhaps that’s what they wanted us to do…”

“I can’t… hold it forever,” Arthur said incredulously. “I can barely hold it now!”

“I know. You’d die at some point.”

“Wonderful.” Arthur would rather not think about such a shameful death. If anything, he wanted to go out fighting for his people, not holding his pee for ridiculous amounts of time. “So how do you break the curse, then?”

“There’s… a spell written here,” the sorcerer said quietly. “I will attempt it, but my understanding is limited and my pronunciation is a wild guess at best.”

“What are you saying, Merlin?”

“That breaking a fairy’s curse isn’t easy, Arthur, but it isn’t impossible, either, so you’ll get to pee, eventually, but it may take some time.” With Arthur’s impatience, that was the last thing he wanted to hear. Still, he shut up and let Merlin work, for the less he complained, the sooner he’d get to pee.

And it did take some time. Plenty of it. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, and Merlin had made no headway with the ancient spell. Genuine tears pricked at the corners of Arthur’s eyes at how much it hurt to continue holding so many gallons of pee that couldn’t get out.

“Merlin…” he whimpered. “Aaaahhh…”

“I know, Arthur, I know,” Merlin said, his voice overflowing with sympathy. “I’m trying my best here, you know that. I’ve tried virtually everything! I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. Unless…” He sprawled his papers out on the table and scrutinized the spell, dividing his attention between it and the Fae’s language… and realized he had been mispronouncing the ‘p’ sound as a ‘q’. Such a simple mistake, but a crucial one.

“Get ready,” Merlin said, feeling the magic rush over him as he recited the words in his mind. “I’ve got it this time.”

Arthur’s breath caught in his throat, and he didn’t look happy, he looked worried. “Merlin… I have to be honest with you. I’m holding an unimaginable amount of fluid inside of me. Where will it all go? I’ll need… at least ten chamber pots. Maybe more.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Merlin consoled him, gently massaging Arthur’s shoulders to comfort him. “Go where you’re comfortable. I’ll clean it up when you’re done.”

“But my mattress,” Arthur whimpered.

“Magic,” Merlin said with a wink.

Arthur nodded, growing in confidence, and aimed his throbbing member at the sheets between his thighs, practically salivating at the mouth, thinking how good this release was going to feel.

“And another thing—”

“Hurry up, Merlin,” Arthur growled impatiently. His brain had signaled his bladder it was finally time to release, and it was wreaking havoc on his nether regions.

“Let me aim for you. By instinct, you’re going to want to push it all out at once, and I’m afraid you’re going to hurt yourself. Let me help you go, so you don’t pull something.”

Arthur let out a strained chuckle. “Yes, because the last thing I need is to try to explain such a unique injury to the court physician.”

“I think Gaius would understand.”

“Yes, but I don’t want him to!” Arthur shut his eyes and prepared himself for the orgasmic relief. “It’s coming… oh, it’s coming, Merlin.”

Merlin hadn’t so much as recited the last word of the spell when Arthur’s body tensed up and then relaxed all at once, urine gushing out of his sore, throbbing member like a fire hose on full blast. Merlin kept his promise and knelt on the bed beside Arthur, squeezing his member to cut down the flow. Arthur moaned and writhed in his hands, begging him to let him pee faster, to get it all out now, and Merlin apologized for the pain slowing down the stream had caused him, but it was a necessary pain, and he knew Arthur would thank him later, when his bladder wasn’t still aching and feeling full even after he’d emptied himself completely.

And Arthur was right. The relief was orgasmic. But he knew he couldn’t give in to the feeling, for growing hard would cut off his flow completely, and he couldn’t imagine how much pain that would cause him.

Arthur peed and peed and peed until the sheets grew warm and wet around them and everything was soaked with his urine. He sighed and let his head loll back against Merlin’s shoulder, his warm breath tickling his servant’s neck as the last few violent spurts added to the puddle forming around Merlin’s knees. 

Merlin gently massaged Arthur’s member as his stream trickled to a stop and the last few drops speckled the sheets before he removed his warm hands and pulled the exhausted prince into his lap as he fell back and let the soft pillows envelope him.

“How do you feel?” Merlin breathed, enjoying the rare moment where he found time to cuddle with Arthur.

“Heavenly,” Arthur hummed, his voice barely a whisper, snuggling into his boyfriend’s warm, damp body. “Thank you, Merlin. Thank you. I love you more than ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final part!


	5. Dead Leaves and Morning Pees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Merlin spend the night in the woods together and wake up with full bladders. Merthur cuddles ensue... and Merlin gives Arthur full control over him until he can't hold it a second longer.

Arthur woke up to find Merlin curled into him, his arms wrapped firmly around his waist. Blue eyes filled with panic, and his first instinct was to shove the boy away. What if someone walked in on them? And how had Merlin gotten into his bed, anyway? He sure had a lot of explaining to do. He’d gone too far this time.

“Merlin!” Arthur hissed, immediately sitting up and throttling the boy awake. “What do you think you’re doing?” It only took his tired mind a few seconds to process their surroundings as the memories from yesterday came flooding back.

The two had spent the night in the forest and were just waking up to the midday sun. They’d overslept, but it made sense. Yesterday had been a long day of travelling over tough terrain with few breaks in-between.

Merlin cried out, fearing they were under attack. “ARTHUR, ARTHUR!” He reached out for the prince but couldn’t grab ahold of anything because his armor was too slippery. He calmed down and his hands fell to his sides when he realized there was no one there but the two of them.

“You pushed me,” Merlin pouted. “Why’d you do that? I was sleeping! Quite soundly, actually.”

Arthur swallowed a laugh that tickled his throat even after he stuffed it down. “I can see that.”

Merlin wrinkled his nose and shoved the prince with all his strength (barely budging him) in an attempt to get back at him before crossing his arms and huffing, looking sleepy and displeased. “You’re such a prat, you know that? You never apologize for the life of you.” 

“Why would I apologize to a servant? Your life means nothing to me.” Arthur’s mistake was saying it so nonchalantly; he might as well have been given an award for delivery. Merlin truly believed he was serious.

The sorcerer couldn’t believe his ears. He was stunned by how casually Arthur had said it and tried to find a break in his expression, a hint of a smile—_anything!_—but was unsuccessful. Merlin slowly sat up and tried searching the man’s eyes, but Arthur refused to meet his gaze. “Arthur, what is this? Are you trying to upset me? Because if you are… you’ve succeeded.”

Arthur couldn’t keep up the act much longer. Sometimes it was fun to play hard to get, but he figured he’d gone too far this time in invalidating his own affections. “I’m sorry, Merlin. It was a joke. You know I love you.”

Merlin was further stunned into silence, Arthur’s voice slicing through his solitude like a thunderous roar, though he barely spoke a whisper.

“Hey. Merlin. I said—”

“What _did_ you just say?” The two stared at each other for a long moment before Arthur understood what had just slipped out and Merlin caught on to how embarrassed he was.

“Nothing. I said nothing.” The prince’s cheeks were growing redder by the minute, and he looked away in an attempt to hide it.

“You said you’re sorry!” Merlin pretended to gasp, simultaneously breaking out in a cheeky smile. “You were really worried you hurt me.” Arthur said nothing, but it was his silence that sealed the truth. All of a sudden, the young sorcerer felt so warm inside. Nothing could steal this moment from him. He’d remember it forever. “I love you, Arthur,” he breathed into his ear, cuddling into him once more.

Arthur smiled back and welcomed Merlin’s warmth, knowing he could do nothing about the heat in his face or the color in his cheeks. He was actually quite enjoying it. “I know you do, you simpleton.”

“Is that a new insult?”

“Perhaps it is. I think it perfectly encompasses everything that you are.”

Merlin rolled his eyes and tugged at the blanket that had fallen to his ankles until it rested lightly on his waist.

“Aren’t we getting up now?” Arthur asked, slightly puzzled at how Merlin seemed to be in no rush to get up even after a full night’s rest… having not gotten up even once to empty his bladder.

Merlin shook his head. “No, I didn’t plan on it. We’re in no rush.”

Arthur raked his gaze over his servant’s thin form, searching for any sign of discomfort, whether that be in the form of legs crossed casually at the ankles or a subtle shift of position every couple minutes.

He found none. Merlin either didn’t have to go, which was highly likely, or he was doing everything in his power to ignore it… which was more like him. He’d do anything to secure more cuddle time with Arthur.

“Don’t you have to pee?” Arthur shifted his hips as he said this, giving away that his bladder was also uncomfortably full.

Merlin nodded. “Oh, yeah. I’m bursting.”

“Then why don’t you pee?”

“Because I’m enjoying the moment.”

An hour passed, and neither Arthur nor Merlin could conceal their need any longer. Though, Arthur was better at hiding it. He’d give himself a gentle squeeze now and then under the covers, and it’d be enough to appease his aching appendage and convince his bladder to hold on as long as he needed it to.

Merlin, however, was much more vocal about his need. He was openly holding himself, groaning, and squirming around like he couldn’t hold it in for much longer.

Somehow, their situation struck Arthur as hilarious. He began chuckling quietly to himself, and Merlin joined in because his laughter was contagious, though he had no idea what they were laughing at. If anything, it just put an unnecessary strain on his full bladder.

Merlin shifted slightly under the blanket and tried not to make too much of a scene. “What’s so funny?”

“This. This is. All of it!” Arthur had his face in his hands now, shaking, barely able to contain himself. “Here we are, in the middle of the forest, sleeping together as we seldom have been able to do, and yet, both of us are desperate to pee but too lazy to get up! How is it not hilarious? I’m convulsing with laughter just thinking about it.”

Merlin snorted. “Perhaps it is a little funny.”

“Now come here.” Arthur welcomed the squirming boy into his arms and pulled him into his chest, spooning him. Now that he was comfortable, he exhaled a contented sigh. “I’m not used to spending this much time with you. My duty to Camelot makes little time for much else. Perhaps that is why I’m so lacking in gestures of the romantic kind.” 

Merlin cast a glance up at his beloved prince. “Would you like to spend more time with me if you had the chance?” For a moment, it felt as if his heart skipped a beat as he drew in a breath and held it there, awaiting any sign of a response from Arthur.

Arthur hesitated, as if he were pondering what to say and how to put it. After choosing his words carefully, he turned to Merlin, cupping his chin in his hands and looking him deep in the eyes, and said, “No, not really.”

Merlin sat up in outrage for the second time that morning. Only this time, it painfully jolted his bladder. “What?” If what Arthur said was true, he didn’t want to cuddle him. He wanted to slap him and… ignore him for the rest of the day! Because that’s what one did when their boyfriends were cruel… right?

Arthur grinned like a cat that had cornered its prey. “Merlin, you idiot, you didn’t let me finish. More time?” His voice became a breathy whisper. “No. Not at all. I’d like all time in the world with you. I’d like you to be by my side… for as long as my heart still beats and my lungs fill with air.”

Merlin’s jaw slacked and his face registered shock. Arthur claimed he wasn’t a romantic, and then he dropped something so powerful, Merlin was lost for words. “Arthur…”

The prince picked at the grass, though he couldn’t feel it through his metal gloves. “Perhaps someday, when the time is right, we can get married. No one would dare defy the King of Camelot.”

“Only perhaps?” Merlin repeated.

Arthur nuzzled his boyfriend’s neck and ran a hand through his messy black curls to make up for the uncertainty in his promise. “It’s not as easy as it sounds, Merlin, though there are times that I wish it was. Someday, we will make it happen. But for now…”

“Loving in secret will have to be enough.”

Arthur gave a small nod and lingered over Merlin’s forehead, caressing him in his warm breath, before planting a soft kiss there. “Again, I’m sorry.”

Merlin relaxed in his lover’s arms, feeling safer with Arthur than he did with anyone else. “Sorry?” he murmured.

“Sorry that I can’t promise you something better. But I can promise you the unconditional love of your king. That I will cherish you, protect you, and take care of you forever.”

“That’s enough.” Merlin brushed his lips against Arthur’s cheek and gazed into his eyes. “It’s always been enough.”

Arthur nodded and gestured to the bushes. “I know. Now go pee before you wet yourself.”

Merlin’s face flushed. “Is it that noticeable?” He looked down and realized his hands had found their way to his crotch without him noticing. The blanket had fallen down to his knees again, revealing the act. “I didn’t want to spoil the moment…”

“You’re all knotted up like a pretzel. Go pee…” Merlin started to get up. “…before I change my mind.”

The sorcerer looked back at Arthur, but again, the prince refused to meet his eye. “What was that, sire?”

“You heard me.” Merlin nearly melted under Arthur’s suddenly authoritive stare.

“What if I don’t want to pee? What if… if I want to hold it and enjoy the feeling?” he said boldly, his knees knocking together from the effort it was taking to hold back the pee that was pounding against his sore tip.

“That is entirely your choice. But I warn you now, once we get started, I won’t be nearly as merciful.”

Merlin gave himself another quick squeeze as he settled back down in the dirt and dried leaves, letting Arthur spoon him. “That’s what I’m counting on,” he whispered. “I know you’ll take care of me.”

The prince roughly pulled him into his grasp, and the two of them rolled around on the ground, piss sloshing inside of them, before Arthur pulled Merlin on top of him and tried to calm his labored breathing.

Merlin panted and wiped away the sweat on his forehead as his boyfriend reached forward to pick a few dead leaves out of his hair. “I love holding for you, Arthur. It makes me so happy to be around you.”

“Stop gushing and start holding.” Arthur hadn’t failed to notice the few drops speckling Merlin’s crotch, and he wasn’t going to let it come to pass.

“Sorry.” The servant lowered his gaze. “I guess I got excited.”

“You pee when you’re excited? What are you, a dog?”

“Not that I recall, though some people have said I’m as loyal as one.”

“They say there’s no animal crueler than the cat,” Arthur said as he snaked his hand down under Merlin’s body and squeezed his swollen bladder like an orange at the market. “Perhaps in this moment, I remind you of one.” Merlin gasped and felt a hot spurt soak his crotch before he wrinkled his face up and sucked the rest back in. Grinding on top of Arthur was the only way he could keep it all in without gripping himself with both hands.

“You are anything but a cruel man,” Merlin panted, “unless someone has told you they desperately need a wee.”

“So hold it and be a good servant. Because you’re not peeing even if you beg me to let you go. You’ll go when I say you can go. Is that understood?”

Merlin nodded and buried his hands deep into his crotch, as deep as they would go. Arthur allowed it this time, for he knew it offered Merlin the slightest relief, and he wanted him to hold it as long as possible, no matter what it took.

Merlin had awoken the beast inside of Arthur by offering him full control over his bladder. And it made it all the better knowing his boyfriend’s own bladder was ripe and full under that crushing plate of armor, though he chose not to show it. Merlin knew, of course, but he was too lost in his effort to stop himself from leaking to attempt to pleasure the prince in any way.

Merlin groaned. “May I tell you how bad I have to go?”

“You may.”

“I feel like I’m going to explode. I don’t think I can—”

“You will hold it. If you leak, you will be punished.”

Merlin whimpered, but Arthur’s eyes were cold and hungry. He would not be persuaded. The merciful prince was gone. Only the lustful son of the king remained. “Sit on my lap,” he demanded.

“Arthur, my bladder can only take so much... It is a living organ. Not a water balloon.”

“Even water balloons break.”

Merlin whimpered but obeyed and straddled Arthur’s leg. He bounced on it to hold back the flood, but the flood gates were weakening under the prince’s cruel commands.

Arthur wrapped his arms firmly around Merlin’s waist as his boyfriend rested his head back on his shoulder and closed his eyes. “I am yours, my prince. Do what you will.”

“Mine, hmm?”

“Yours.” 

In that moment, Merlin gave himself over to Arthur, and Arthur knew that this boy would do anything for him. He’d hold until it physically hurt if it pleased him—he loved him that much—and that was enough to melt the prince’s icy heart.

“Go,” he whispered.

Merlin’s eyes fluttered open. “What?” He wanted to make sure he’d heard that right before he gave into the urge and pissed out the contents of a bladder struggling to contain his morning pee. 12 hours without a piss… Oh, the agony.

Arthur kissed him on the cheek to let him know the game was over. _“Let go.”_

Merlin couldn’t have held on a second longer, even if Arthur demanded him to. His entire body turned to jelly in his boyfriend’s arms as he spread his legs and slowly pissed himself on Arthur’s lap.

The prince raised the hem of Merlin’s shirt and splayed his fingers over the swollen bulge resting between his thighs as it gradually deflated like an overfilled balloon and gently pressed down, causing a violent spurt to force its way out. Merlin moaned and squirmed on his lap, willing himself to go faster and force it all out, but at the same time enjoying the orgasmic feeling.

Hot piss soaked through his crotch, and then Arthur’s, and ran down their thighs, seeping into the soil below. The prince squeezed Merlin’s bladder to help him get out those last few squirts, his own bladder throbbing beneath his damp smallclothes and heavy chainmail shirt. He couldn’t wait to pee, but he also couldn’t bear to miss a moment of Merlin’s bliss.

What a morning it had been!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 2: Waking up in the forest with a full bladder


End file.
